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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026478">Sweet Talk</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/renjunlite/pseuds/hyucksie'>hyucksie (renjunlite)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>K-pop, NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Baristas, College Students NCT, College Students NCT Dream, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:47:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/renjunlite/pseuds/hyucksie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaemin is whipped for your ice cold heart, and he just won’t quit trying to win you over—one hot cup of coffee at a time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Na Jaemin/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sweet Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by the song Sweet Talk by Saint Motel.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Sweet talk<br/>
Everything you say<br/>
It sounds like<br/>
Sweet talk to my ears</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>You could yell<br/>
"Piss off! Won't you stay away?"<br/>
It'll still be<br/>
Sweet talk to my ears</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>You pick the warm cup off the tray carefully, voice chasing after your eyes as you read the order call out loud. </p><p>“One Caffè Americano for—” <em>Oh.</em> </p><p>Oh <em>no.</em> </p><p>You bite your tongue for almost reading what was scribbled on the cup, an incredulous look painting over your face. </p><p>No. <em>Please,</em> not again. </p><p>You should have read the name before calling out. <em>God, </em>you should have known better. The same thing’s been happening for a week now.</p><p>When the <em>hell</em> is it gonna end?</p><p>Your jaw is clenched tight as you whirl around to face <em>Johnny </em>at the counter, waiting for him to notice your piercing stare. When he does, you throw a free hand to the air, the venomous look on your face enough for him to understand the silent movie version of your <em>What the heck, Seo?</em></p><p>“What?” He asks with half a shrug, his bemused smile tipping off that he knows <em>perfectly </em>well what it was. Still, you point a finger at the cup sporting his distinct handwriting. In bold black marker, it proudly wears the words that makes your stomach twist into ugly knots. </p><p>
  <em>My sweet baby angel.</em>
</p><p>Like <em>hell</em> youʼre gonna shout that out, especially on the night before finals when every nook and corner was filled with students from your uni. Your hand squeezes tighter on the paper cup.</p><p>“Easy there,” <em>Jaehyunʼs</em> voice calls your gaze to the coffee bar, “if that spills over, Iʼm not making another one.” The subtle intimidation almost sobered your thoughts, but it was short-lived when he turned around to bump his fist with Johnnyʼs, their knowing smiles a mirror reflection. </p><p>Jaehyunʼs eyes land back on yours, meeting your scowl head on with a smirk. “Just call for it before it gets cold, Y/N.”</p><p>Heʼs right. Itʼs best to just get it over with, but that doesnʼt mean you canʼt be petty about it. You give them your nastiest glare, mouthing obscenities and making sure they caught every word before huffing and turning on your heel to face the sea of stress and cramming before you. You sweep your narrowed eyes through the area. </p><p>There he is, sitting in the corner, back turned to the counter. Pink hair and all. </p><p>You brace yourself with a deep breath. </p><p>“One Caffè Americano for Na Jaemin!” You shout louder than necessary, making the group of students sitting nearby snap gazes of faint irritation at you. </p><p>You donʼt back down. You never do. </p><p>A sugary, bordering on unsettling, smile works its way to your face as you tilt your head at the group, their stares quickly faltering. <em>Shouldʼve gone to the library. </em></p><p>“Cute.” Your head whips to the right at the sound. </p><p>Pink hair? Check. Wide grin? Check. Big, bright eyes? Che—</p><p>Wait, no. </p><p>The prickling feeling of annoyance burning at your throat and making your temples throb? Big, fat check.</p><p>You shove the cup at him, eager to put an end to the encounter. “Hereʼs your Caffè—” </p><p>He makes clicking sounds with his tongue as he quickly steps back from the counter, folding both arms up like he was dodging you.</p><p>“I donʼt think you said my name right.” You scoff. “Thatʼs literally your fuc—” a cough resonates from behind, likely from Johnny. You sigh, trying to regain composure. “I know for a fact that itʼs your birth name, <em>Na Jaemin.”</em></p><p>He does the impossible. His smile grows even bigger than before, reaching past his cheeks and making half-moons of his eyes. “As much as I like the sound of my name on your lips, thatʼs not what I gave at the counter, <em>Y/N L/N.”</em> </p><p>Your next breath came out with a shudder at the way it rolled off his tongue. <em>Itʼs the anger, </em>you think, <em>itʼs the blood-boiling, hair-ripping, sucker-punching irritation and anger. </em>You decide itʼs time to suck it up, unsure of how much more restraint you could muster.</p><p>“Caffè Americano for…” you begin in a voice low enough to isolate the words in the air between you, “<em>mysweetbabyangel.” </em>You mumbled the last few words, brows furrowed as you stared at the cup, keeping your gaze anywhere but on him. </p><p>“Uh, sorry. Speak louder? Don't think I caught that.” You had to squeeze your eyes shut for a second. <em>This is it, </em>you thought. <em>This is my limit. </em></p><p>“I <em>said,</em>” you inject every ounce of venom possible into your voice, “one Caffè Americano for the pink haired <em>asshat!”</em></p><p>You were brave enough for the handful of stares earlier, but now your skin crawls with the amount of attention you just called to yourself. You have no choice. You look straight at the boy in front of you instead. </p><p>At the very least, you wanted a little reaction. A slight twitch of the lips, a crease between eyebrows, even a split second of wavering pupils. </p><p>No such luck. </p><p>He steps forward, leaning his left arm and his right elbow on the countertop before propping his chin on his open palm. This time, itʼs your turn to back away slightly. </p><p>He stares at you the same way he always did since the first time he pulled this stunt. Youʼre convinced that youʼll never get used to it. He chuckles lightly, and awareness washes over you as you rein in the trepidation on your features, summoning your icy look back though it comes in weaker. </p><p>“Aw, baby,” he cooes. “Itʼs so sweet when you call me pet names.” </p><p>You flinch when he reaches his hand out to yours, a sharp, buzzing intake of breath burning a line down your throat as his fingers brush on yours. His hand stays wrapped around yours. Youʼre frozen. </p><p>“Can I… have my coffee now?” Still a little woozy from the sudden contact, it takes you a second before loosening your grip on the cup you held so tightly that the capʼs already popped off. You hope he didnʼt feel your shivers as you gradually slipped the drink into his hand, the feeling of his fingers slowly sliding off yours unfamiliar but not… unpleasant. </p><p>“Y/N? Come in here for a sec?” Youʼre pulled from the daze, the cafe ownerʼs head peeking from the storage door. “And donʼt think I didnʼt hear you earlier. I hope youʼve apologized to our customer.”</p><p>You were about to protest, but an unexpected defense flies past you. “Itʼs no problem! That was our… term of endearment.” Your eyes widen at Jaeminʼs explanation, and you whisper at him in shock. “You did not just say that.” He only winks in response. “Oh my god Jaemin, <em>piss right off.”</em></p><p>Thankfully, the owner didn’t seem to hear that. “Really? Alright then.” You pivot back to where the boss is waiting for you. “Still need you back here though Y/N.” You turn to give Jaemin one last aghast look, only to find his back already turned to you. </p><p>“See you tomorrow.” He waves his cup in the air in time with his goodbye, walking straight to the exit. </p>
<hr/>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Oh when you laugh<br/>
I forget that it's about me<br/>
But it's alright<br/>
Yeah, cause being your punchline<br/>
Still is something</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Today marks the second week, and though it still irks you to no end, youʼve at least gotten Jaeminʼs modus operandi down to a tee. </p><p>Five oʼclock. You train your eyes on the side entrance, his usual way of coming in. Thatʼs why you never noticed him entering despite his bright hair being a dead giveaway.</p><p><em>Any minute now. </em>You hold the cup with both hands, an unidentifiable tingling feeling coursing through your palms. Nerves? No. Excitement? <em>Hell no. </em></p><p>You’re snatched of the luxury to figure it out, because there he is, walking through the door with his backpack slung over one shoulder. Pink hair and all. </p><p>His eyes immediately flit to the counter and land on you. You notice the surprise that tides through them when he finds you already looking at him. Gradually, that surprise eases into delight, his familiar, <em>infuriating </em>smile snapping you back to your senses. </p><p>You step out of the counter, making quick strides towards him. His eyes widen, but he makes no move to rebuff your nearing presence.</p><p>You lift his arm by the wrist, not missing the way his head keeps snapping between your face and your hold on him. “One Caffè Americano, right?”  You thrust the drink into his hand and reeled away, not giving him a chance to react as you left him stunned.</p><p>You get back into your work rhythm, lining up drinks for the call-out. As you finish giving out a batch and hand the tray back to Jaehyun, you overhear Johnny having quite the animated conversation.</p><p>“Dude. I just saw you down that venti in, what, three gulps? You want another one already?” It’s Jaemin at the counter, shrugging his shoulders as Johnny looks at him in disbelief. “It’s nothing. I used to drink six coffees a day, four shots each.”</p><p>“Each?!” Even Jaehyun, self-proclaimed caffeine-dependent, has to turn away from his bartending duties to gawk at Jaemin. The subject of everyone’s surprise just smiles in return, motioning for Johnny to come closer so he could whisper something to him. You roll your eyes, knowing what’s about to come. </p><p>
  <em>Here we go again.</em>
</p><p>You decide not to stress it out today, heading back to your station and cleaning out the rest of the bar while Jaehyun worked on the drinks. When he rings the bell for you to take the tray, you’re surprised to find Jaemin waiting by the claiming area. You drop the tray beside him, giving him a questioning look, not bothering to restart the conversation. It’s a steely standoff for half a minute, until he finally breaks the silence.</p><p>“Are you gonna give mine or…” You don’t bother to look up at him, prepping a stack of napkins to hand out with the drinks. “You’re already here,” is your monotone answer, “so just take it from the tray.”</p><p>You notice the line starting to grow behind him. “Look, other people are waiting for their drinks.” You don’t see the way he hunches and sulks in front of you, just his little puffs of breath hinting at his disappointment. “I hope you realize I’m just gonna keep buying more,” he threatens. You shoot him an unimpressed look. “Do your worst, Six Shots.” </p><p>“It’s four shots,” he mutters under his breath. You shift your gaze away, catching only his hand as he goes for a drink and—wait. Is that…?</p><p>“Jaem—” Too late. He takes off the cap and immediately latches his lips on the cup, guzzling it down like it was water. He side-eyes you with a little curl on the corner of his lip, taking your slack-jawed expression for amazement.</p><p>“Uh, excuse me.” A voice pipes up behind him. Jaemin looks back and raises an eyebrow at the guy, who looked a tad bit surprised as well. “I think that’s mine?” He continued, Jaemin’s gaze trailing to where his finger pointed at the cup. </p><p>
  <em>Iced Latte. Jeno. </em>
</p><p><em>Shit, </em>he thought, <em>that’s why it felt so cold. </em>It wasn’t the only cold thing that ran through him, a chill coursing through his spine as the reality dawns on him. He covers his open mouth with a hand, blinking rapidly at… Jeno.</p><p>A snort cuts through his crisis, and he turns back to see you doubled over the counter, clutching at your stomach as you try to hold in the laughter. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you half-said, half-laughed. “Jeno, right? Would you like us to make you another drink or,” you couldn’t keep it together, the giggles breaking your phrases in half, “or would you mind having this idiot’s americano?”</p><p>“Uh, that’s okay. Americano’s good.” You aren’t totally convinced by his answer despite the brightness of his smile and the shrinking of his eyes. You rushed to the glass case of baked treats, adding in a donut and cookie for good measure. You hand the treats to him and pick out the americano from the tray, looking for a weird name… Ah.</p><p>
  <em>The love of my life.</em>
</p><p>You can’t help but snort again, finding this more amusing than you should. “Here’s your americano, <em>love of my life.” </em>Jeno squeaks out a confused noise, a little scrunch on his nose before his eyes land on the written words. His mouth forms an <em>Oh, </em>and surprisingly, he plays along. “Thank you, <em>love of mine,” </em>his nose scrunch makes a re-appearance at what he just said, quickly taking the drink from you and leaving with his free snacks.</p><p>You feel Jaemin’s eyes on you. “What?” You ask him pointedly. He shakes his head. Honestly, the short interaction sparked a small flame of jealousy in him, but it was doused in water by something better, something else entirely more important.</p><p>“Your laugh is so cute,” he remarks, looking at you <em>that </em>way again. The way he always did, ever since the first time. “Cute like the rest of you.”</p><p>You’re struck quiet, but there’s something thundering inside you. You look away.</p><p>“But don’t do that again,” he says. “Buying my drink for me.” You return your gaze to him and poise to speak, about to clarify something. “Buy—?”</p><p><em>“I’m </em>the one who pays for you,” he cuts you off, the most serious you’ve ever seen him, “when you finally agree on that first date.” <em>When, </em>he said, <em>not if</em>. <em>Noted, </em>you answered in your head. But you shake your head at him. You need to clear something out.</p><p>“That won’t be necessary.” You tell him, a timid smile emerging on your lips. He raises a hand at you and tuts, and you realize he must have misunderstood. You part your lips to explain further, but he doesn’t give you the chance. “Nope,” he says, popping at the ‘p,’ “Not giving up on you.” His words, along with his familiar, only a little less annoying smile, brings a rise out of you that you are never gonna admit. </p><p>“Especially not now that I’ve heard you laugh.”</p>
<hr/>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Yeah well I'm not scared<br/>
I'm not going nowhere<br/>
Yeah, you might want me to drop dead<br/>
But I don't even care</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Week three. Well, it would’ve been week three if you didn’t have to take the week off. The deadline for your research work was inching closer and closer, and you can’t afford to use your free time for anything else. Thus, today is day one of not working at the cafe, and it’s only stretching out until day seven.</p><p>You spend all your vacant periods at the library, facing your laptop, books, and notes. You only realize it’s night when your phone screen lights up, showing you the time and a text that just came in.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Johnny</b>: Y/N? Favor please. Need to pick up my girlfriend tonight, Jaehyun has a game. Can you close up shop? Already told boss.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p><b>Johnny</b>: Know you’re busy, won’t ask again after tonight. Promise.</p>
</blockquote><p>You don’t feel the least bit annoyed. Actually, you think it would do you good to have a short break. You shove the keys, your wallet, and phone into the pocket of your hoodie, not bothering to bring anything else since it’s a short trip from uni to the cafe. <em>I’m one of those people now, </em>you think with an amused smile, <em>annoying bastards who take up library seats with their unattended shit. </em></p><p>The walk outside is short but <em>wet. </em>It must have rained within the time you spent at the library. You put your hood on, glad that there’s barely any rain now. When you arrive at the cafe, you’re surprised that it was left unlocked with no one manning the counter. You shake your head, but you’re delighted at the thought of having blackmail material on Jaehyun and Johnny.</p><p>You go into the counter to check if any machines were left running, but instead you find one drink left on the claiming area.</p><p>
  <em>Nana.</em>
</p><p>Nana…? Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, turning the drink in your hand to see the other side.</p><p>
  <em>Caffè Americano. </em>
</p><p>And then you notice it, the napkin that the cup stood on before you picked it up had a note. Johnny’s distinct handwriting, in bold black marker:</p><p>
  <em>He won’t take from either of us. You give to him. </em>
</p><p>God. He writes the same way he texts. <em>How could anyone guess the guy’s an English major? </em>you thought, about to drop the abandoned drink into the bin until something caught your eye.</p><p>
  <em>Pink.</em>
</p><p>It’s Na Jaemin, sitting in the corner, facing away from the counter. Pink hair and all.</p><p>You nearly drop the drink in your hand, saved only by catching on the edge of the counter. <em>What the hell is he doing? </em>You bring the drink with you, walking over to his table.</p><p>“Jaemin…?” You ask a few feet away from him. No answer. You step closer, and you see the way his head lolls slightly to the left, resting on the back of the sofa chair. <em>He’s asleep.</em></p><p>You sit on the chair opposite his, and you notice how the ends of his hair looked darker..<em>. </em>He was wearing a black jacket, so you reach tentatively to his sleeve to confirm your suspicions. It’s wet to the touch. <em>He went out in the rain…? </em></p><p>Your eyes flicker to his face, the way his eyebrows were scrunched up like he was having a bad dream. The way his cheeks flushed a little darker than the rest of him. You can’t put a name to what came over you, not thinking when your hand reached over the table, landing softly on his forehead.</p><p><em>Okay. He’s not dying, </em>you thought. He’s a little warm, but not too hot for a fever. Still, you want to be sure and get him a tablet from the medicine cabinet in the storage room. You’re about to step away from him, about to take your touch off his skin, until you feel something warm land on top of your hand, stopping you in your tracks.</p><p>He’s awake. One eye half open. Smile lopsided.</p><p>“Crazy. You crazy dumbass. Why are you here?” He sits up from the chair slowly, bringing your hand down from his forehead. He doesn’t let it go, though, keeping it locked in his, even caging it in with his other hand.</p><p>“I was waiting for you,” he answered like it’s the simplest thing in the world, voice still raspy, laced with sleep. You’re quiet for a few seconds, attention focused on the warmth encasing your hand. “That’s stupid. <em>You’re stupid.”</em> If your weak insult offended him, he doesn’t let it show on his face, only showing you his best, unusually not-so-irritating smile.</p><p>“You know why I don’t give up?” You blink at his shift of topic, recognizing what he’s referring to but not quite comfortable acknowledging it so… intimately like this. “Jaehyun told me,” he continued. “First week of classes? You told him you liked me.”</p><p>Your eyes widen in realization. <em>That bitch, </em>you thought, <em>was that why he treated me to barbecue that weekend? </em>You’re unsure of what to answer, but Jaemin saves you from the predicament. “My hair was still brown back then,” he mumbles. “Did the pink turn you off?”</p><p>You almost laugh at his question. “You’re ridiculous,” you say, shaking your head. “I like you,” you blurt before you could realize. “Your hair! I like your hair. Pink and all…” </p><p>Too late. He’s already jumpy in his seat, eyes wide as saucers as he leaned over the table to give you a closer look. You almost back away from the proximity, but his hold on your hand keeps you from any escape. His gaze shifts between your eyes before he asks, “You mean that?”</p><p>You blink at him twice. You know it’s not about hair color preference. You gulp as you muster all the confidence within you, closing your eyes. You can’t tell him this while taking his intense gaze straight on. “I do. Like you, I mean. I didn’t really … stop, but you just shocked me, you know? All of a sudden, you… <em>pursued </em>me. I thought it was some kind of cruel joke so I thought, I’ll just let it run course until you get tired.”</p><p>His hands squeeze yours, encouraging you to open your eyes. “But I didn’t.” It’s the first sight that greets you. That same look of his, every single time, ever since the first time. “Because I liked you since then, too,” his smile grows bigger. “The very first week.” There’s a riot waiting to burst out of your chest.</p><p>“And you waited until now to tell me all this…?” Suddenly, it’s like all the confidence seeped out of him, and he dropped your hand to hide his face with his palms. “What? Now you’re shy?! After <em>everything </em>you pulled on me?” You try to pry his hands away from his face. “After everything you just told me?” You added in a softer voice. His hands slide down his face, revealing to you just how flushed he looks. “That takes a lot of effort, you know? I’m not as confident as you might think.”</p><p>You’re about to make a comment on how cute he is, like what he always says about you, but a ping from your phone grabs your attention.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Johnny</b>: You closed up? Forgot to say. Jaemin’s there. If he tries anything weird, call me.</p>
</blockquote><p>You scoff at the screen. <em>Now he’s concerned? </em>Jaemin tries to lean over and see, but you press lock before he could see. “It’s just Johnny,” you say, now flashing the time on your lockscreen at him. “And I need to get back to the library now,” you add, thinking of how you spent <em>way </em>more time than expected and hoping that the librarians haven’t taken it upon themselves to move your stuff to the lost and found. “I’ll walk you there,” Jaemin says, and you notice how he still can’t look you in the eye.</p>
<hr/>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Oh when it's cold<br/>
I get warm just thinking of you<br/>
When I'm alone<br/>
I stare at stars and hope dreams come true</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>On the walk back, you look up to find the sky significantly darker, the few patches of thin rain clouds now out of sight. You slow down your pace, admiring the rare view of clear stars in the city. Jaemin gazes at you, and he smiles at the look on your face. He knows that look, knows how it feels. It’s <em>that </em>look. The same look he always gives you, ever since the first time he walked into that cafe.</p><p>You feel a shiver run over you, and your eyes shift to the pink-haired boy beside you. You remember that his jacket’s all wet, and worry seeps into your expression. “Aren’t you cold?” You ask. He just keeps smiling at you, like he didn’t even hear your question until you tugged on his sleeve. “Nana?” You call out to him. The last nickname he used. “Are you cold?”</p><p>He stops in his tracks and blinks at you, dazed, only snapping out of it when he notices the worry grow in your expression. He shakes his head, pulling your hand away from his sleeve and making you swiftly retract your hold on him, thinking you made him uncomfortable. But his hand quickly chases after yours, surprising you. He locks your fingers together and uses his other hand to pull on the sleeve that’s touching your skin. “My clothes are a little wet… you shouldn’t be touching them.” he explains in a whisper.</p><p>It’s only silence after that, a little awkward as you walk underneath the expanse of the night sky like a midnight blue blanket over your heads, watching the stars—or are they watching you?—as your steps lead you closer to the only campus building with the lights on at this hour.</p><p>You stop in front of the library, looking at each other for a few seconds before tearing your gazes apart, although neither of you makes a move to break your hands apart. “I, uh,” Jaemin stutters, “does this mean that…” your eyes widen a little, thinking he’s about to pop <em>the </em>serious question. “That you’re agreeing on that date? With me?” </p><p>Your body un-tenses in relief, and you gradually lift your gaze to him. “Yeah,” you answer softly, “yeah, of course.” A smile breaks out on Jaemin’s face just as you realize something. “Oh, but it’s my research week… I’m not sure if I could squeeze it in,” you wince a little, knowing you got his hopes up. His smile falters only a little, short-lived when an idea pops into his mind.</p><p>“Could we do this again?” He asks, and you tilt your head at him, unsure of what he meant. “I mean, during this time. I can pick you up at the library, we’ll just uh… close up shop and walk together?” He scratches the back of his head with the hand that’s not holding yours, and you can’t help the grin that emerges from you. “Yeah. We could do that.”</p><p>“And I’m finally buying you that drink,” he adds, a satisfied look on him. “Uh, Nana?” You call. He hums in answer. “You’re not buying me anything.” His face scrunches up in confusion. “Why not?” You let a bit of silence simmer in the air, smiling up at him. </p><p>“Because my mom owns the cafe.” </p><p> “Y-your <em>what?!” </em>The expression that paints over his face makes you giggle. “It’s our term of endearment,” you teased, mimicking his deep voice from that day. “Oh god,” he groans while you laugh at his embarrassment. </p><p>He soon laughs with you though, your littered giggles in the air making him forget it’s about him. “Why does it sound so sweet even when you make fun of me?” You scrunch your nose at his cheesy remark, pushing him away from you. “Yeah I think it’s time for you to leave,” you say jokingly.</p><p>He pouts, but it’s replaced by his usual smile when he steps back into your space, leaning down to look you in the eyes. </p><p>“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You nod. “See you tomorrow, Nana.” He only grins and lets out a soft laugh, frozen in his spot, still in disbelief at everything that just happened.</p><p>“Okay but really, <em>leave!”</em></p><p>“Okay, okay!”</p>
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    <em>Oh, everything you say<br/>
It sounds like<br/>
Ooh, to my ears<br/>
Oh, "won't you stay away?"<br/>
It sounds like<br/>
Ooh, to my ears</em>
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